


Painted Heart

by jojotaros



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Cafe Leblanc (Persona 5), Comfort, Confessions, Crying, During Canon, Fluff, Love Confessions, M/M, Mentions of Madarame, Painting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:33:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25541398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jojotaros/pseuds/jojotaros
Summary: Yusuke isn't sure if he could ever convey through his paintings what it is he feels when he's around Akira. In a moment of vulnerability, everything slips out.
Relationships: Kitagawa Yusuke/Kurusu Akira, Kitagawa Yusuke/Persona 5 Protagonist
Comments: 1
Kudos: 71





	Painted Heart

**Author's Note:**

> Hey. I wanted to let you know that although Yusuke is "strange" and "eccentric" it's likely because he never had the chance to interact in a normal way with other people. So, I wrote this in attempts to communicate that. My writing is very formal at the beginning. Apologies if it's hard to read.
> 
> I'm also currently sick, my writing may not make a lot of sense plot wise. I hope you get the gist.

His gray eyes were more than focused on the covered canvas in front of him. There was something about watching this man paint that impressed Akira Kurusu. His brow was furrowed and the slightest hint of displeasure began tugging at his lips. Those gray eyes flicked from one end of the canvas to the other, dull orbs trying to pull together something in his head. 

The painter brought the rounded end of the paintbrush to his mouth, absently chewing on the wooden tip. Even though the colours across the canvas, dancing and entwining to create a sunset, calmed the watcher it only seemed to bring the painter to a standstill. He was thinking, deep in thought, thinking if there was something he needed to add. 

Of course the sunset itself was more than beautiful. This man had captured their evening they spent together not too long ago perfectly. With a simple digital picture as reference he created a breathtaking sight that Akira was more than happy to watch the process of. 

Yusuke Kitagawa seemed to disagree with the word breathtaking. Not verbally but it was easy to read. For once it was, anyway. What Yusuke wished to convey through art was difficult to tell however during the painting process he showed more emotion than what he would usually. If not through the slightest tugs at his face, twisting into expressions, then his eyes spoke louder than any words or his face ever could.

Despite how grounded the artist seemed; he wasn’t. Yusuke, without taking his eyes off of the painting, plunged his paintbrush into the mug of hot tea to his left. For a moment Akira wasn’t sure if this was a strange art-thing that he did or if he genuinely got confused. Well, he wasn’t paying attention.

As Yusuke’s fingers curled around the cup of murky paint water Akira realized that, no, he wasn’t paying attention. Before the rim of the cup could reach his pale lips Akira had intervened, a distressed look on his face.

“What is it?” Yusuke asked, wondering why his friend would grab his wrist with such urgency, “I could have spilled my tea.”  
“That isn’t tea.” Akira replied, releasing his grasp on the man’s wrist.  
“What do you-”

Yusuke finally looked at his own hand, his gaze torn away from the handsome face of his friend. To be honest he was so wrapped up in how suddenly close this man was that he didn’t look at the hand he grabbed. And, yes, that was definitely paint water.

His lips curled into a deep frown as he set the cup back down. That’s when he noticed his paintbrush was now inhabiting his cup of green tea. Actually, it was a strange color now. Purple now tinged the light green liquid, dissipating and mixing into something undrinkable. Unfortunate. 

“It seems nothing is going my way this evening.” Yusuke sighed.

He shifted on the stool that Akira gave him to sit on while he painted. At the blue-haired man’s request, he began painting in the attic of LeBlanc almost daily. Perhaps it was the gentle aroma of coffee that put his soul at ease or, just maybe, it was the presence of his friend.

Friend… Those words stung as of late. But why? He didn’t understand. Everything inside of him swirled and danced, blending into a sea of confusion and frustration. His paintings didn’t give him the same feeling as before. The colours weren’t as vibrant and as beautiful. 

“What do you mean?” Akira inquired, sliding the paintbrush out of the teacup.  
“As you know I wished to paint the sunset we witnessed the other evening. It looks just like the picture you gave me but it is lacking something. The colors seem… oddly dull. No feeling stirs inside of my chest. Perhaps I have truly reached an impasse!” 

The way his tone wavered gave Akira comfort due to the tone being usual Yusuke behaviour. In this sense he wasn’t acting out of character. Though…

Yusuke was hunched forward, nearly curled in on himself on the stool. Like he was trying to hide. Was he exhausted? He was working on this painting for hours straight. As impressive as it was, even though he claimed that spending hours on a piece was normal, he must be tired. 

“Maybe you’re looking at it in the wrong way.” 

Akira had no idea what he was saying. He knew that art was interpretive so he went along with that. 

“... I see.” Yusuke looked up, his gaze setting onto his painting, “Maybe if we reenact the evening we spent at the park I’d be able to see it differently!”  
“Uh, sure.” Akira nodded. “We can do that.” 

Akira, during their conversation, had been ready to take the now ruined tea downstairs so he could wash the cup and boil some water. He put a pin in it. Seeing Yusuke frustrated and upset was not at all fun. No matter how strange or out there this man was, he’d rather not see him upset. Ever. 

“Do you remember what we were doing?” Yusuke asked.

He rose from the stool, carefully moving the art easel and painting towards the couch. He turned it so the canvas faced the seats, a decent distance between the two objects. 

“We sat on the bench.” Akira said, “You were telling me about Madarame.”  
“That’s right.” 

Yusuke took a seat on one side of the couch. The way he sat was refined, his back straight and his gaze unwavering. Akira took a few quick seconds to admire that before he sauntered to the couch, sitting beside him. 

The painting was beautiful. There was a feeling bubbling in his chest as his eyes met with the perfectly added colours and shapes, the majority of the strokes done in a delicate manner. Delicately painted, that was it. There was a warmth this painting expressed. How did Yusuke not see it when it was nearly obvious?

“Sensei… I hesitate to believe that I was seen as a person in his eyes. In my mind he is still my Sensei, a guardian figure. After all, he raised me since I was three years old. Yet my heart wrenches and hurts when I think about him.” Yusuke began, speaking slower than he usually did. “That night I wished to confide in you.” 

Akira turned his head to look at him. He could tell that an emotional static caged his heart, murmuring moments of the past into his ear. He recalled memory after memory, moments that brought him pain and those very few moments that brought him ease.

“Talk to me, Yusuke.” 

Akira’s hand rested on his friend’s knee. He leaned close to him without much thought, wishing to let him know he was sincere in what he was saying. In what he wished to do. He wanted to help Yusuke.

“I… do not get along with people. I cannot understand how they act, how they feel, what they think. Sensei never let me talk to anyone other than him or his other pupils. Socializing does not come naturally to me.” He explained, “I say things that people take one way when I mean the other.”

Yusuke slouched forward, his head resting in his hands.

“Like how I expressed how I felt nauseous when we were at the park. You asked if I would be alright to head home on my own. I was dizzy, you steadied me. I… pushed you away when I didn’t mean to.”  
“Huh..?”  
“When I saw the sunset with you, Akira, I felt nauseous.” He began, looking at Akira with stressed eyes through his fingers, “My heart wouldn’t stop beating fast and every time you were near me I felt… strange. I was not opposed to the feeling. In some ways it brought me comfort.”

Akira was at a loss for words. He still didn’t seem to understand what Yusuke was getting at. Luckily he was a patient man. He wouldn’t leave until he understood. His friend was in distress, he needed to help him.

“... It is difficult to explain what I desired to convey. I can’t feel it myself from the painting. I have failed as an artist. Akira, this emotion I tried to share… It's an emotion I’ve never been able to share.” He inhaled sharply, making eye contact with the raven-haired man, “Love.” 

The world around Akira both fell apart and sprang with life all at the same time. For some reason, the bleak colors he once saw fell away- everything looked so vibrant. His heart wrenched and blossomed forth with impulse and affection. The way Yusuke looked at him, his bangs obscuring his eyes, fingers covering his distressed face, Akira couldn’t stop himself from leaning forward. 

His arms wrapped around the artist. His frame trembled slightly- did he begin to cry? Even after the incident with Madarame he didn’t see Yusuke cry. Not even when his Sensei revealed that he was partially responsible for the death of his mother. It seemed that the floodgate had been opened. His hands gripped onto Akira’s blazer with desperation. 

“I saw it.” Akira said, “I understood.” 

The words were reassuring. 

“... Together, we’ll watch more sunsets, Yusuke.” His hand rubbed his back in attempts to soothe him, “You’re not alone.” 

Yusuke was trying to stifle his sobs and sharp inhales, his face buried into Akira’s shoulder. It hurt him deeply when he asked himself; did Yusuke ever have someone to go to when he felt like this? Intensely emotional? The grip on his blazer tightened. 

He would think about this another time.  
In the moment, Yusuke had him.


End file.
